


The Escape

by shoebox_addict



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Grimmauld Place, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-03 07:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16321889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoebox_addict/pseuds/shoebox_addict
Summary: After the war and the defeat of Voldemort, Remus and Sirius are stuck in Grimmauld Place. Until, that is, they decide to escape.





	The Escape

 

_ October 1981  _

In years to come, people would speak about Halloween 1981 in reverent tones. The day would be assigned new meaning, as the day when the Dark Lord was defeated. Empirically, Remus understood the cause for celebration. But Halloween 1981 meant something different to him. 

That night, Remus awoke to the sound of someone smashing down the door of the flat he shared with Sirius. As he grabbed his wand and sat up, he noticed that Sirius was already awake, staring at their bedroom door. Just two weeks earlier, Dumbledore had cast the Fidelius Charm, hiding the secret of where James, Lily and Harry were at this very moment within Sirius’ brain. Though Dumbledore had promised them he was close to tracking down Voldemort, and that no harm would come to any of them, Remus had been expecting something like this. 

“It’s all right,” said Remus. “We can fight them off.”

The words had barely left his mouth when the bedroom door was blasted off its hinges. Approximately two minutes later, Remus took a stunning spell to the chest and fell to the floor.

When Remus awoke for the second time that night, Kingsley Shacklebolt was kneeling over him with a concerned expression on his face. 

“He’s awake,” Kingsley called to someone else in the room. 

All Remus could remember was the stunning spell. For one frazzled moment, he thought that Kingsley had broken into their home and attacked them. Why was Kingsley there? More importantly…

“Where’s Sirius?” he said, trying to sit up. 

“Take it easy, Remus,” said Kingsley, pushing him back down to the floor. “We’re trying to answer that question right now.”

“You’re trying to...you mean he’s not here? Who the hell attacked us?”

“Death Eaters."

Emmeline Vance stepped into view, and Remus noticed Elphias Doge behind her. 

“At least four of them,” she continued. “We’re pretty sure they’ve taken Sirius somewhere.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” said Remus, covering his eyes with one hand.

“We also can’t seem to track down Dumbledore,” said Elphias. “Emmeline was alerted to the break-in by your alarm system, and she tried to report it to Dumbledore, but he can’t be reached.”

“Wonderful,” said Remus, a wave of nausea hit him out of nowhere and he took a deep breath. 

“Any idea why Death Eaters would attack you and Sirius?” Kingsley asked. 

Remus hesitated. He wasn’t supposed to tell, but everything seemed to be falling down around him, so he decided that knowledge was power in finding Sirius. “Dumbledore made him the Potters’ Secret Keeper not too long ago. Voldemort is desperate to find James and Lily. He probably thinks he can get the information out of Sirius.”

As he said the words, the full bearing of what they meant sent Remus’ heart into his throat. Obviously, it was bad that Death Eaters had attacked them and seemingly kidnapped Sirius. But the reason they’d done it made everything far worse. Now he realized what they were probably doing to him at this very moment. The nausea returned and Remus pitched forward, retching onto the bedroom floor. Distantly, he felt Kingsley’s warm, heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’re going to find him.”

“We can’t even find Dumbledore, apparently,” said Remus, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“We’ll split up,” said Emmeline. “We have all of the Death Eaters’ known hideouts logged, and most of us have staked them out in the past. Each group can check a hideout and see if Sirius is there.”

Remus agreed, only because he didn’t have a better plan in mind. Emmeline took charge of rounding up Order members, and soon the flat was full of wizards and witches awaiting their assignments. 

“I want Malfoy Manor,” said Remus, once Emmeline unfurled her list of hideouts.

In the time it had taken to summon everyone to the flat, Remus had been thinking. Lucius Malfoy was a relative of Sirius’ by marriage, and nearly everyone in Sirius’ family was connected to Voldemort in some way. Lucius and his wife Narcissa had seemed squeaky clean when Remus had staked out their mansion with Marlene McKinnon, but he was adamant that something was going on there. Bellatrix was Narcissa’s sister, after all, and he knew that Bellatrix’s hatred of Sirius ran deep. They’d run into her several times on the battlefield, and she was a ruthless dueler. Remus was certain she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to harm Sirius and gather information for the Dark Lord in the process.

Emmeline nodded briskly. “All right.”

“Are you sure you’re okay to go?” said Kingsley.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Remus insisted. “I distinctly heard the  _ Stupefy  _ spell just before I passed out.”

“Okay,” said Kingsley, after a moment’s hesitation. “Emmeline and I will come with you.”

Remus’ memories of arriving at Malfoy Manor were foggy. They apparated just outside the grounds and walked to the gate, subduing the wizards who guarded the manor. A quick look at the guards’ forearms confirmed Remus’ suspicions about the Malfoys. They made it surprisingly far into the mansion before being detected, and the last thing Remus remembered clearly before the battle was the sound of wailing, screaming. Then the Death Eaters appeared, and his battle skills took over his brain. 

The fight was difficult, and Emmeline was hit with the Cruciatus Curse before it was over. In the end, they took down the Death Eaters and an eerie silence fell over the mansion. The screaming had stopped, and Remus suspected that was only because whomever had been causing the screams had abandoned his or her post. Kingsley went upstairs, Emmeline headed down to the cellar, and Remus tread a cautious path around the main floor. With wand at the ready, he peered inside every door he passed. The mansion appeared to be completely deserted, until he paused at a set of double doors and heard a soft whimper. 

Sirius was lying in the center of the enormous ballroom. As Remus approached, fear firmly lodged in his chest, he saw the splatter of vomit on the floor. Bruises and angry red marks stood out sharply on Sirius’ pale neck. He appeared to be unconscious, his breaths quick and shallow. 

Remus dropped to his knees beside Sirius and gently tapped his cheek. At this barest of touches, Sirius flinched and his eyes snapped open. For a moment, those eyes were completely blank and Remus’ breath caught in his throat. They were too late, there would be no saving him now. But then Sirius blinked, and the essence of himself seemed to flow back into his gaze.

“Remus,” he croaked, coughing hoarsely. 

Remus nearly laughed with relief. “What can I do, Sirius? Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” he groaned. 

Remus nodded, gently pushing sweaty strands of hair off Sirius’ face. Now that he’d found him, Remus was bursting with questions. He wanted to know who’d taken Sirius from their flat, who’d hurt him like this, what they wanted to know. But he could only imagine what Sirius had been through, and he thought the man deserved to simply be. 

After Remus sent Patronus messages to them, Emmeline and Kingsley made their way to the ballroom. Kingsley called for healers from St. Mungo’s to pick up Sirius and transport him to the hospital. As the healers apparated into the ballroom, Sirius suddenly grasped Remus’ wrist, a desperate look on his face. 

“I didn’t tell,” he said. “They asked about James and Lily, and I didn’t tell. I just want you to know.”

“I believe you,” said Remus. “It’s all right now, you’re going to be fine.”

As soon as he arrived at St. Mungo’s, Sirius was given a variety of potions to help him heal. At least one of the potions sent him straight to sleep, and Remus took up a vigil at his bedside. The head healer approached him and offered to Obliviate away Sirius’ memories of the previous night. Remus refused, knowing that it wasn’t his place to make that decision. Several hours after Sirius had fallen asleep, James and Lily arrived with Harry.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” said Remus.

“Shh,” said James, glancing pointedly at Sirius.

Remus waved his hand dismissively. “The healers said he won’t be awake until later this evening. I reckon they gave him some pretty strong potions.”

“They’d have to,” said Lily, and Remus could see her taking stock of Sirius’ condition. She’d been working part-time at St. Mungo’s before they were forced into hiding. 

James swallowed nervously and reached out, as though to touch Sirius’ hand. Then he drew it back and rubbed his chin roughly. “He was in pretty bad shape, eh?”

“Yes,” said Remus. His eyes burned from having been awake for so long, and from crying. He wondered if he could ask James and Lily to stay with Sirius while he took a nap. Any sort of rest was sure to help. Perhaps he would wake up and know how to fix this. 

“Everyone warned him this would happen,” said Lily. “But he insisted on being Secret Keeper.”

“He’ll be all right,” said Remus. That was his inner mantra, and he’d been repeating it whenever someone remarked on Sirius’ condition. If he didn’t keep reminding himself that Sirius was getting treatment, and that he would surely heal, Remus would dwell too much on the scene in the ballroom. When he closed his eyes, he could see the blank look Sirius had given him. Perhaps a nap wasn’t such a great idea. 

Harry let out a delighted squeal, one of those sounds that babies made seemingly randomly. He had no idea that his godfather was lying in a hospital bed, trying to sleep off a night’s worth of horrific torture. If Remus could, he would shield Harry from that fact for the rest of his life. 

“Why are you here?” he repeated. “How can you be here?”

“Dumbledore defeated him,” said James, staring down at Sirius. “We just got word.”

“The details are foggy,” Lily added. “Something about horcruxes, which are apparently some very dark magic. In any case, he’s gone.”

Though this was what they’d been working toward, and what he’d been hoping for, for so long, Remus had no idea how to feel about the news. He wanted more details and more proof that he truly was gone, and that the war would be over. To his surprise, it felt like a fairly hollow victory. The Order had lost so many members, and Remus had lost many friends. Voldemort had cultivated a following of thousands, and those people would still be around even though their leader had been defeated. It felt like there was still work to be done. 

The sound of Sirius mumbling in his sleep made everyone jump. Remus thought he heard his own name, but it could have been his imagination. He did not imagine, however, the way Sirius reached out vaguely for something in front of him. Without even thinking, Remus took his hand, and Sirius held on tightly, even in sleep. It would no doubt take more time for Remus to fully process what the end of the war meant. But at that moment, he felt an uncomplicated gratitude that Sirius no longer had to fight.

The war was over. And though it had tried, it had failed to claim one last casualty. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_ May 1982 _

Remus was grateful for two things: (1) that he had been smoking in the alley when Kreacher apparated in to see him, and (2) that he hadn’t dropped his cigarette on his own foot. Those were the limited parameters of his gratitude that afternoon. Once he made sure no one had noticed Kreacher’s sudden appearance, he stomped on the cigarette so as not to ignite the various rubbish that littered the alleyway. 

“I thought we talked about this,” he said, scowling at the house elf. “I work in the Muggle world, and you can’t keep doing this. I don’t expect you to understand Muggles or even like them, but we have to come to an agreement.”

“Kreacher knows,” said the elf, scowling right back. Admittedly, it was difficult to tell when Kreacher was scowling at you, because his face was always drawn into a scowl of sorts. Over the last few months, however, Remus had become far more acquainted with the elf’s facial expressions than he’d ever thought he might. During those months, he realized that Kreacher had a specific scowl meant just for him. 

“Well, go on,” said Remus, rubbing his hands nervously on his trousers. He was very aware that someone could stumble upon them at any moment. “Why are you here?”

“There’s an emergency at the house,” said Kreacher. “We did agree that I should tell you about emergencies, yes? Even though it’s very irregular, and even though you’re a nasty werewolf my mistress would have despised, I did agree to help because Master Sirius is the heir.”

“Yes,” Remus sighed. “That’s all true, I just wish you’d send me an owl or something.”

“Why bother when I can do this?”

Remus tried to stop him, but Kreacher snapped his fingers and disappeared from the alleyway. So much for finding out whether this “emergency” was important enough for Remus to beg off work and go back to Grimmauld Place. Though they had agreed on the system of alerting him, Remus and Kreacher couldn’t seem to agree on what constituted an emergency. So far, Kreacher had popped in to tell him about a music box that wouldn’t stop playing, a bowl of fruit that had gone moldy, and some doxies that had flown out of the parlor curtains. Though loathsome, doxies could be thwarted simply by shutting them in the parlor. 

Remus glanced down at his crumpled cigarette, wishing that he hadn’t stomped so violently on it. Given Kreacher’s track record, Remus wondered if it was worth going home at all. But there was always the chance that something had truly happened to Sirius. Remus couldn’t bear the thought of dismissing Kreacher’s summons, only to return home at the end of the day and find Sirius hurt, in pain, or in need of something. 

For the most part, Sirius was fine. There were just a few things vexing him on a daily basis: the fact that he lived in his loathed childhood home, the fact that he couldn’t really leave the house, and his memories of the night he was tortured. Taken together, those things could create an insurmountable obstacle. On some days, that meant Sirius burrowed into himself and moped around the house. On other days, he used more destructive methods of overcoming his own mind. 

Eventually Remus decided it wasn’t worth the risk. He stepped back inside the bookshop and sought out his supervisor, a middle-aged woman named Flo. She smiled kindly when he explained that a neighbor had come by to tell him something was going on at his house. 

“You’d better check it out, dear,” she said. “Wouldn’t want to ignore something that burns your house down.”

“Well, indeed,” said Remus. “I’ll be in tomorrow morning.”

“See you then!”

Remus walked calmly out of the bookshop but quickened his pace as soon as his shoes hit the pavement. Running home would reduce him to an out-of-breath mess who wouldn’t be able to help anyone, but he moved as quickly as he could, dodging people who moved more slowly. One of the advantages to the bookshop was its proximity to 12 Grimmauld Place. In the case of Kreacher’s false alarms, Remus had actually gone back to work afterward.

The bookshop had many other advantages, though. For one, Remus loved to read and found that he also enjoyed helping people buy things to read. Sirius had always joked that Remus would only be happy once surrounded by dusty books on a regular basis. When Remus told him about the bookshop, Sirius had grinned and said, “Told you so.” For another, the bookshop’s Muggle owner didn’t know werewolves were real.

At any other time, Remus might have tried to find a job at Flourish and Blotts. In some ways it would be easier to work in the wizarding world, and it would be a novelty to sell Harry his school books each year. But that wasn’t possible now that Remus was on the Werewolf Registry. In the aftermath of the war, someone at the Ministry learned he’d acted as a special envoy to the werewolves. After some rather rigorous and uncalled-for interrogation, Remus had agreed to sign up. In doing so, he’d doomed his chances at getting a steady job. 

So he’d looked for work in the Muggle world instead. Sirius insisted that his family’s money was enough to support them both, but Remus told him that wasn’t the point. On one hand, it was a matter of principle. The Werewolf Registry existed to force those on its roster into menial jobs that paid little and were not respected. Remus wouldn’t give the Ministry the satisfaction of working one of those jobs just to remain in a society that hated him. On the other hand, he simply wanted to work. 

Sirius wanted to work as well, but his situation was rather more difficult. A number of Voldemort’s followers remained on the run, Bellatrix included. According to Dumbledore, if they knew where Sirius was, they would finish the job they’d started on Halloween. Now Sirius was stuck living in his childhood home, protected by the charm that had caused his own torture.

From the outside, nothing seemed to be amiss at 12 Grimmauld Place. But as soon as Remus stepped inside, he heard shouting and banging. 

“Sirius?” he called, quickly shrugging out of his jacket. 

“If you don’t shut the fuck up,” Sirius shouted, from somewhere down the hall. “I’m going to hex you right off this bloody wall!”

“I’d like to see you try!” screeched the portrait of Walburga Black. “They put me up here with the strongest enchantment they could find. I’ll be here long after you’re gone, dearie.”

“Maybe I’ll just do it the Muggle way, then,” said Sirius, and then a loud banging noise. “That would certainly be poetic justice, eh?”

“That axe is no match for me!”

_ Axe?  _ Apparently Kreacher had been right about the emergency this time. Remus ran down the long hallway that lead from the front door to the main staircase of Grimmauld Place. On the landing, he saw Sirius wielding a frighteningly large pickaxe, hacking at the frame of his mother’s portrait. Unfortunately, Walburga was right -- the axe wasn’t even making a dent. 

“Sirius, stop!” Remus shouted, unsure of whether he should approach him. He drew his wand for good measure; Sirius had once accidentally stunned him after waking from a nightmare.

“Well, look who’s home!” Walburga screeched, grinning menacingly down at Remus. “It’s the werewolf filth that you’ve invited into my home. Bad enough that he’s a werewolf,  _ and  _ a half-blood, but I hear he’s also a queer.”

“ _ I’m  _ a queer, mother,” Sirius shouted back at her. “We’re queer together, isn’t that lovely?”

“Disgusting!” she screamed, prompting Sirius to whack at the frame a few more times. “That won’t work! Stop it this instant! Your brain is addled!”

This only caused Sirius to swing the axe harder, crying out each time the metal hit the portrait’s frame. Remus was genuinely frightened now; he’d never seen them argue this fiercely. The portrait had been shouting at them both ever since they moved in, but Sirius had so far succeeded in shrugging it off or simply shouting back snarkily. Seeing the irate, even deranged, look on his face now made Remus race up the stairs and raise his wand. 

“ _ Wingardium Leviosa, _ ” he said, giving his wand the customary swish and flick in the direction of the axe in Sirius’ hands. The axe floated up toward the ceiling, out of Sirius’ reach, even as he jumped to try and grasp it again. 

“What are you doing?” Sirius shouted at him. “I’m going to finish her off, once and for all.”

“Sirius, the portrait is stuck to that wall with a very powerful charm,” said Remus, concentrating half on the conversation and half on keeping the axe aloft. “There’s no way you’ll be able to remove it.”

“Yes, but,” Sirius paused and jumped up again, trying in vain to reach the axe. “Making an attempt was very satisfying.”

“Just let it go,” said Remus. “There’s no point. Come down here so I can let go of the axe.”

Sirius folded his arms over his chest like a petulant child. “No.”

Remus sighed. “I’m not going to have an argument about this, Sirius. And I can’t keep hold of the axe forever, so just come down here.”

“I think I’ll stay here until your arm gets tired,” said Sirius, grinning at him.

“This isn’t funny,” said Remus. “I left work to see if you were all right and, honestly, I don’t think you are.”

The grin fell from Sirius’ face. “Oh, what do you know?”

That had to be a record, Remus thought. These conversations usually ended with Sirius shutting down, but it had never happened that fast. Remus tried to think up something that would help, but he wasn’t quick enough. Before he could even splutter out an apology, Sirius had turned his back and was marching up the grand staircase. 

“Sirius, wait,” he called out, still maintaining his hold on the hovering charm. 

“Why don’t you just leave?” sneered Mrs. Black’s portrait. “He’s clearly sick of you.”

“Oh, sod off.” Remus let the hovering charm go, and the axe fell, tracing a path mere inches from Mrs. Black’s face. She shrieked, even though the axe couldn’t possibly do her harm. 

Remus followed Sirius upstairs, and the closer he got to finding him, the more noise he heard. The axe had produced a singular, repetitive sound, but this noise was jumbled and chaotic. It was the unmistakable noise of someone haphazardly destroying a room. Remus had heard the noise once before, when James had lost the Invisibility Cloak and tore apart their dormitory to find it. This was much the same, but with less intention and more destruction. 

Sure enough, Remus found Sirius moving like a methodical cyclone through his childhood bedroom. Papers flew through the air, pictures were torn from the walls, tapestries and duvets were flung this way and that. Remus would have expected there to be more shouting involved. Indeed, the most surprising aspect of the whole scene was how calm Sirius seemed as he dismantled a bedroom that he’d once struggled to make his own.

“Sirius.” Remus spoke at a normal volume, not wanting Sirius to think he was upset with him. “I think we should talk.”

To Remus’ surprise, Sirius actually paused and glanced at him. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“Right,” said Remus. He hesitated at the doorway, contemplating what he should say. But then he realized this was not the time to interfere. Having been foiled in the destruction of his mother’s portrait, Sirius clearly needed to lay waste to  _ something _ . If he needed to make his way through the entire awful house, then so be it. At least the axe was out of the equation. 

“Find me when you’re finished,” said Remus. Sirius nodded to him to show that he’d heard. 

While he waited, Remus grabbed a book and took up residence on the old, uncomfortable settee in the living room. Eventually Sirius sidled up and sat down, and Remus cast wary sideways glances at him. The deranged look was mercifully gone, and even his eerie calm had now been replaced by fatigue. After a moment, Sirius shifted closer to him on the settee, his simple way of telling him everything was okay between them. Remus shut his book and set his hand on Sirius’ thigh. 

“I’m sorry,” said Sirius, setting his hand on top of Remus’. 

Remus frowned at him. “What are you sorry for?”

Sirius gestured vaguely around the room with his free hand. “All of this nonsense. You shouldn’t have to come home from work because of me. And I’m sorry for the outburst.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” said Remus. “In fact, I want to apologize to you.”

“My mother was wrong -- you’re the one whose brain is addled,” said Sirius, smirking at him. “You haven’t done anything.”

“I’ve made you stay in this dreadful house.”

Remus was upset with himself for not realizing it sooner. At the end of the previous year, they’d been elated that the war was over and grateful to have a house to move into. Well, perhaps he’d been more grateful than Sirius. But they’d needed a place to stay, and then routines took root. Christmas was a joyous affair, and even Sirius had seemed happy then. But as the new year began, and everyone sought a post-war purpose, Sirius got stuck. Now he spent his days in a house he hated, wandering the rooms and arguing with a portrait of his dead mother. It had only been seven months, but that was seven months too long. 

Sirius stared at him for a moment, until his smirk faltered and he shook his head halfheartedly. “You’re not the one making me stay.”

“Then who is?” said Remus. He pushed a strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear and smiled at him. “Remember at Christmas, when I told you I was grateful to have a warm place to stay?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean--”

“Fine, that’s not why,” said Remus. “It’s not important. Would you like to leave?”

Sirius bit his lip and hesitated. Then, a sudden burst of laughter escaped him, reminding Remus strongly of a younger, more carefree time. “God, yes, I want to leave.”

Remus laughed in return, feeling light and airy at the sight of a smile on Sirius’ face. He slung his arm around Sirius’ neck and pulled him in for a soft kiss. Sirius hummed against his lips and Remus was struck by the gratitude he routinely felt for the fact that Sirius was still alive. On that horrible night, just months earlier, things could have gone so much worse. The time since then had been difficult, but somehow everything was tempered by the fact that they still occupied the same space. They were each other’s solace, and they could take that with them anywhere.

“Where should we go?” said Remus, his hand on Sirius’ jaw.

Sirius shrugged. “I’ll be happy as long as there are no shouting portraits.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

There was the small matter of the house, and the house elf who lived there. Just after the war ended, during the time that Sirius spent in St. Mungo’s, Walburga Black had died. Sirius’ father had died three years earlier, around the same time that Regulus had gone missing. There were many Blacks -- their family tapestry boasted a long lineage -- but Sirius was the only Black left in his immediate family. As such, 12 Grimmauld Place went to him. Apparently Walburga’s reverence for tradition and blood ties was stronger than her disdain for Sirius. And that was saying something.

As soon as he was able, Sirius had had to sign the deed to the ancestral home with a charmed quill, sealing his ownership of the building. Needless to say, the occasion carried mixed feelings. Sirius, newly released from St. Mungo’s, wanted a place where he could sit and be quiet. Remus wanted much the same, having spent too many nights asleep in a chair beside Sirius’ hospital bed. Had he been in a different state of mind, Sirius would have found a way out of signing the deed. 

They began the hunt for a willing new owner in front of the Black Family Tapestry, which took up one entire wall of the parlor. Remus avoided entering the parlor because the tapestry made his skin crawl, particularly the large burn mark that obscured Sirius’ name. Now he stood scowling at the burn mark, wishing he could have met Walburga Black while she was alive and given her a piece of his filthy, half-blood mind. 

“Well,” said Sirius, pointing to people on the tapestry. “This is a very short list.”

“Define ‘short.’”

“It’s basically two people.”

“Ah.”

“And one of them is dead.”

“So we’re in great shape.”

“It sounds bleak,” said Sirius. “But the one person left on the list is Andi, and she loves me.”

Indeed, Andromeda Tonks (née Black) was basically the only person left in Sirius’ family who would talk to him. That was fine with him because Andromeda was the only person in his family worth spending time with. Later that evening, he and Remus knelt in front of the house’s main fireplace, tossed in some Floo Powder, and thrust their heads into the green flames. Through the fire, they could see Andromeda in her kitchen, brewing tea.

“Hey, Andi,” Sirius called out, wincing when Andromeda flinched and poured boiling water on her own hand. There was almost no way to talk to someone through the Floo without frightening them half to death. 

“Merlin’s beard,” she said, casting a quick cooling charm on her hand and coming to kneel in front of the fire. “You scared the shit out of me, but it’s nice to see you both.”

“Nice to see you too,” said Sirius. 

“How are Ted and Dora?” Remus asked. 

“Right as rain,” said Andromeda. “Ted’s reading Dora a book before bed just now. How are you two?”

“Not bad. We have some news, actually,” said Sirius. “We’re moving.”

“Wow, that’s exciting,” said Andromeda, smiling brightly. “Change of scenery, get away from some old memories? Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.”

“Indeed,” said Remus. “But we need to do something with Grimmauld Place.”

“Oh, what are you thinking--?” Her eyes grew wide as she realized why they’d gotten in touch with her. “No. Nope. I can’t take it, Sirius, I’m sorry.”

“Listen, I know you don’t want to,” said Sirius. “And I’m sorry you had the misfortune of being born into this family. But you’re basically the only living Black who will talk to me.”

“Do you want our relationship to remain friendly?” said Andromeda. “Keep me out of this.”

“We’ve looked into it with the Ministry,” said Remus. “Apparently that charmed quill is very serious business. This is a magical residence in the heart of London, and a witch or wizard must be in possession of the property, preferably someone in the family. Sirius needs to sign the house over or he’ll have to come back every three months.”

Andromeda sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I remember visiting you in that house, you know. When we were children? It’s a bloody awful place.”

“Imagine living here,” said Sirius, rather darkly. Outside of the fire, back in Grimmauld Place, Remus gently took Sirius’ hand.

Andromeda was quiet for a very long time. She even stood up and paced around her kitchen for a few minutes. Sirius squeezed Remus’ hand, and Remus understood how much he hoped this would work. Remus tried to transmit this to Andromeda somehow, silently begging her to just take the house so they could escape. At long last, Andromeda knelt down again and looked at them both. 

“I truly, deeply do not want this house,” she said. “But you deserve a break, mate. I never had to live with Walburga, the least I can do is take her bloody house.”

Sirius let out a sigh of relief that ended in a chuckle. “Thank you. I owe you an enormous favor for this.”

“You bet your ass,” said Andromeda, grinning at him. “Once you get settled in your new idyllic locale, I’ll send Dora to stay with you for a week.”

“A fair trade,” said Sirius, nodding. 

With the house problem solved, they turned their attention to the location problem. As they did not yet have a new place to live, Remus was still working at the bookshop, and he spent most of his time there contemplating the vastness of the world. There were simply too many options when there were no parameters, so he and Sirius set about creating parameters.

“No hot climates,” said Sirius.

“Nothing too cold either,” said Remus.

“I like the sea, but I don’t need it to be on my doorstep.”

“We can just strike a line through all of the States, yes?”

Sirius scrunched up his nose and nodded. “New York sounds fun, but it’s still in the States.”

“Indeed,” said Remus. “What are your feelings on France?”

“Mostly lukewarm. Although I spent a lot of summers there as an unhappy child.”

“Right, that’s France out. I’ll get there someday, I suppose.”

Sirius reached over to squeeze Remus’ hand. “I’ll take you on an extravagant holiday.”

Remus smiled at him. “South America?”

“Hot,” said Sirius. “Plus, I can’t dance.”

“And that would affect this...how?”

“I think if you can’t at least do a few steps of the rumba, you’re kicked out of South America.”

“Well, it’s looking more and more like we should stay right where we are.”

“Not exactly where we are, but I see your point,” said Sirius. “How about Wales?”

Remus sighed. “You know I feel very strongly about my homeland, but unfortunately it now also carries connotations of the war.”

At various points during the past several years, they had escaped to Remus’ parents’ home in Wales. It would always be one of Remus’ favorite places, but he doubted the memories of feeling frightened and small while there would disappear overnight. 

“Plus,” Remus added. “If Dumbledore is right, and Death Eaters are still looking for you, they’re bound to try Wales because of your connection to me.”

Sirius nodded. “I don’t think we can stay in England and still call this an escape.”

“Well, how about Scotland?”

“Heading up to Hogwarts always felt like an escape to me,” said Sirius, smiling fondly. “It’s where I met James, and it’s where you and I fell in love.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Remus, smirking at him. “I fell in love with you in the back garden of James’ parents’ house. I believe sunbathing was involved.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I knew you were only with me for my looks. Fine, then, it’s where  _ I  _ fell in love with  _ you _ . Somewhere in the library, and you probably didn’t even notice because you were studying something dreadfully boring.”

“How rude of me,” said Remus. “To be learning while at school.”

Sirius stuck his tongue out at him. “We don’t need to be too close to Hogwarts. After all, Harry will go to school there one day, and we don’t want to be the uncool uncles who live right there. Like we’re spying on him for his parents or something.”

Remus chuckled. “You mean you wouldn’t be able to resist checking up on him.”

Sirius looked sheepish but didn’t say anything. Remus found it endlessly endearing that Sirius took his godfather duties so seriously (pun intended, always). From the moment Harry was born, Sirius had been smitten and intent on spoiling him rotten. No matter how far away they lived, Remus knew that Sirius would be arranging meetings in Hogsmeade as soon as Harry was allowed to visit the wizarding village. 

Once they settled on Scotland, Remus and Sirius waded into the world of Muggle real estate. Each day, when Remus set off for his shift at the bookshop, Sirius apparated off to a new corner of Scotland in search of a house that would suit them. He was still not supposed to be leaving Grimmauld Place, so Remus was the only one who knew about the house-hunting mission. It soon became clear that having something to do was doing Sirius a world of good. Even when his searches weren’t fruitful, he came home more cheerful than Remus had seen him in quite some time. 

Then, over dinner one evening, Sirius told him about a cottage he’d seen near the border between Scotland and England. Though he’d said other houses were possible good finds, this was the first time his face had lit up while talking about a place. 

“There’s a fireplace, of course, for the Floo,” he said. “There’s an extra bedroom that could be a sort of library but also a guest room in case anyone comes to visit. There’s a small garden out front in case either of us suddenly becomes good at Herbology, or we could just try our hand at vegetables. Best of all -- there’s a bookshop in town. That is, if you still feel like working when we’re essentially living out an idyllic retirement away from it all.”

“I think I will,” said Remus. “Otherwise I’ll be pottering around the house, and you’ll shag my brains out, and then where will we be?”

Dinner was forgotten, as Sirius felt compelled to discover where they might end up after shagging each other’s brains out. The answer was asleep on the drawing room floor, waking up at half past two, freezing their asses off. They decided to buy the house. 

Just one week after Sirius had first seen the house -- a week that had involved visiting the Ministry to change some of Sirius’ fortune into Muggle money -- the house was theirs. Two days after that, Andromeda visited to sign the deed to Grimmauld Place and wish them well. Three days later, James and Lily came to the house for a farewell dinner. 

“Though I’m sad to see you go,” said Lily, raising her glass in a toast. “I’m relieved that you won’t be living here any longer.”

“Hear, hear,” said Remus, and they all took a drink.

“Just think,” said Sirius. “Next time you come to visit us, you won’t have an insane portrait yelling at you about your blood status.”

“How will I ever feel at home?” said Lily, smirking at him. 

“We’re going to miss you, of course,” said Remus. “But consider our new front door wide open.”

“And we’ll be around for birthdays and holidays,” said Sirius. “You’re crazy if you think I’ll pass up an opportunity to buy Harry an absurd amount of toys.”

“He’s just one kid,” said James, laughing. “He can only play with one toy at a time.”

“Ah, but it’s good to have options,” said Sirius. 

After dinner, Remus and Lily busied themselves making tea. Though he was trying to quit, Sirius asked James outside for a smoke so he could talk to him. 

“We’ve decided not to tell Dumbledore we’re leaving,” he said. 

“Oh.” James paused and slid the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket. “You want me to cover for you?”

Sirius grinned fondly at him. “James, if it weren’t for Remus, and the fact that you’re straight as a pin, I think we’d make a wonderful married couple.”

James snorted. “I prefer to think of us as brothers, but all right, mate.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” said Sirius. “Anyway, yes, that would be great. I mean, he’s Dumbledore, so he’s going to find out. But he knows you’re here now, right?”

James nodded. “We had to get your location from him, what with the charm and all.”

“Good, so just tell him that we were having a normal dinner, no special occasions, and that everything is right as rain over here,” said Sirius. “He’ll only hold us up if he finds out, and I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Again, James nodded. “I’m sorry you had to be here at all. Although, I know you think I’m daft for believing this, but Dumbledore has your best interests at heart.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Sirius. “Take the man who’s been tortured and force him to live in the childhood home that messed him up in the first place? Best interests, my ass.”

“He’s trying to keep you safe,” said James. “Mainly from the assholes who tortured you in the first place.”

“I still don’t know if he has inside information about that,” said Sirius. “Or if he’s just keeping me cooped up because he thinks I’ve gone batty and will do something insane out there.”

“I’m not sure what Dumbledore knows,” said James. “But I think there are people after you.”

“Oh?” said Sirius, trying to remain calm. 

“Peter, for one,” said James. “He had the gall to show up at St. Mungo’s just a few weeks ago and ask Lily how you were doing, and where you might be.”

“Wow,” said Sirius. His mouth had suddenly gone very dry. 

“I think he thinks we really believe he’s done with Voldemort’s old crowd,” said James. “But I don’t trust him. Don’t know if I ever will again.”

“Well, that brings me to something else I wanted to ask you,” said Sirius. “Would you be our Secret Keeper?”

James blinked. “I think I’m having deja vu.” 

“I know it’s dangerous,” said Sirius. “But you, Lily, and Harry are really the only people I want to share the new place with. At least for now. And it won’t be forever. I’m sure this whole Death Eater business will die down eventually, and then we can just...live.”

“Dumbledore is trying to track them down,” said James. “I have to believe it won’t be like this forever. But even if things weren’t going to change -- yeah, of course I’ll be your Secret Keeper.”

Sirius flung his arms around James’ neck, hugging him tightly. “You’re the best mate a guy could ever ask for.”

“All right, let your best mate breathe.”

Sirius backed off quickly, looking a bit sheepish. “I really, really appreciate this.”

“It’s nothing,” said James, waving him off. “Listen, I’m married to the love of my life and we’re raising a wonderful little boy who surprises me every day. Part of the reason I get to do that is because you were willing to risk your life to protect us. The least I can do is return the favor.”

Sirius huffed out a breath and did his best to hold back tears. “Thank you. I owe you one.”

“Nah,” said James. “I’m just paying you back for being our Secret Keeper.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Sirius. “Me being Secret Keeper was paying you back for taking me in after my parents kicked me out. This is a whole new cycle of favors.”

James groaned and moved toward the door. “I wonder if the tea is ready.”

“You’re not getting out of this,” said Sirius, grinning and following him inside. “I’m going to be indebted to you, and you’re going to like it.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Have you been reading my dream journal?”

“Don’t need to, I have a starring role in all your dreams.”

“No, I’m serious -- don’t say anything -- this house is absolutely perfect.”

Though Sirius had described the house to him when he’d found it, Remus knew he wouldn’t have a real feel for it until he saw it himself. Now he understood why Sirius had been head over heels for the cottage. The building was squat, made entirely of stone, with a thatched roof that hung a few inches past the cottage itself. Its recessed door and the shutters on the windows were painted mint green. The garden outside was not yet in bloom, but Remus hoped that it would yield a colorful array of flowers as the spring wore on. 

“The real estate lady told me the garden blooms by June,” said Sirius, noticing where Remus was looking. “It’s all visible from the kitchen, too, so you can sit and have your tea and look at some flowers.”

Remus was surprised by how at ease he felt in front of their new house. This had all been for Sirius -- to get him out of that house and out of his own head. If all had been well, Remus would have been fine staying put in Grimmauld Place. After all, it was a roof over his head and it cost him nothing to live there. But all at once he realized how the gloom of the house had been affecting him as well. The way he felt here, among the rolling hills and green fields that surrounded their new cottage, was similar to how he felt when visiting his parents in Wales.

“This is wonderful,” he said, smiling widely at Sirius, who leaned in to kiss him. 

They’d bought the cottage furnished, so that they wouldn’t need to worry about buying new furniture. But a few select items were bundled into a bag that Remus charmed to hold very large things. Remus’ modest library, which had been living in a dangerous-looking cupboard in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place, came with them. He planned to examine each book carefully in case any dark magic had latched on. They also brought some bookshelves and the bed from their London flat, which they’d installed at Grimmauld Place in a small, never-used bedroom. 

Sirius unlocked the front door, which swung into a small hallway that led to the kitchen, furnished with all the necessary equipment. Another hallway led to their living room, which branched out into the bedroom and the spare room. It wasn’t a sprawling space, but it was enough for the two of them. If Remus ever felt cramped, he reasoned that he could go walking as far as his legs would take him. 

The living room contained a couch that was worn but well taken care of, and a small table near the window that may have once held a television. Remus thought he might try to find an affordable set because Sirius had always been fond of the telly at his parents’ house. In the spare room, Remus unpacked his bookshelves and books. In their bedroom, he unpacked the bed and discovered that it was too small for the space. 

“This is no mansion,” he remarked. “But apparently it’s larger than our London flat.”

“Farewell, cramped city living!” said Sirius, flopping down on the bed once Remus had cast a charm to adjust its size. “Come and join me, Moony.”

Remus grinned at him, took off his shoes, and climbed up onto the bed. He laid down next to Sirius, who rolled onto his side and looked at him with adoring eyes. 

“I’m glad we did this,” he said. “I think we made the right move.”

“We needed a fresh start,” said Remus, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “I’m only sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

Sirius shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize for anything. The first few months after the war were so strange. I didn’t feel like I was living in the real world. When my brain stopped being foggy, the fact that I was back in the house I hated so much really sank in. But by then it seemed too late to mention it.”

Remus frowned. “God, that stupid house. I hope we never see it again.”

“I’ll drink to that,” said Sirius, winking at him and moving closer. 

The next morning, Remus was surprised to find himself alone in bed. He sat up and looked around the room but didn’t see Sirius anywhere. Rubbing at his eyes, he swung his legs out of bed, slid his feet into his slippers, and plodded out into the cottage. As soon as he left the vicinity of their new bedroom, the smells of a full English breakfast hit him.

“Who could possibly be cooking breakfast at this hour?” he wondered aloud, smirking to himself. “I know it can’t possibly be my Sirius, who once declared that the heat from any sort of cooking would wreak havoc on his hair.”

But he did, in fact, find Sirius standing at the stove, moving eggs around a frying pan. He was wearing his favorite pair jeans and one of Remus’ t-shirts. His hair was a bit disheveled, but he looked happy. Remus sidled up to him and stole a piece of bacon from a small tower on a nearby plate. 

“Looks like you’ve had a busy morning,” he said. 

“I went into town,” said Sirius, looking absurdly proud of himself. “Everyone’s really nice, if a bit incomprehensible. They all sound like that Hufflepuff bloke we went to school with, erm, McLaggen?”

“Oh, aye,” said Remus, trying to mimic McLaggen’s thick accent and earning an amused look from Sirius. “I’m sure we’ll get used to that.”

“Yeah, and there’s a nice little shop with lots of food and other essentials,” said Sirius. “Nice produce section there, but we should go to the butcher’s for our meat.”

Remus smiled and bumped his hip against Sirius’. “You went exploring without me.”

“Now I can take you around and show you all the good spots,” said Sirius, smiling back. 

Once the eggs were done, Sirius assembled two plates and they sat down at the dining table that had come with the cottage. Remus glanced out the window and saw that Sirius had been right -- you could see the garden perfectly from where they would eat breakfast. It lent a calm, country feeling to the whole affair, and Remus was looking forward to many mornings just like this one. 

“You know what I’m looking forward to?” said Sirius, halfway through their meal. “Making this place as light and airy as possible. Forget the smog and pollution of London, the decor of that awful house was smothering me.”

“Oh, will you be decorating, then?” said Remus. 

Sirius shrugged. “Why not? I mean, it’s all right the way it is, but it could use a few touches here and there. Maybe some new curtains there above the sink. And I reckon we’ll need to do up our bedroom from scratch.”

“I trust you to make good color and pattern choices,” said Remus. “Not really sure why I do, but there you are.”

Once the dishes were cleaned and drying, Sirius poked Remus’ shoulder and said he wanted to show him around the town. No matter how much Remus protested that he wanted to lay on the couch and digest the enormous breakfast he’d just eaten, Sirius would not let up. The shoulder pokes turned into kisses on the cheek, and eventually they were just making out on the couch. At long last, Remus declared himself defeated, and hurried off to shower before they ended up having sex and losing an entire day.

“There’s the market where I got everything for breakfast,” said Sirius, as they strolled through the town an hour later. “They have those biscuits you like -- I checked.”

Remus smiled widely at the sight of Sirius, in his leather jacket and combat boots, showing him the finer points of their new Scottish locale. Sirius waved to a man in the market, and the man waved back. 

“Hmm, I’ll have to keep an eye on you and the man from the market, clearly,” said Remus, teasing him. 

“Don’t even joke,” said Sirius. “You know no other man could turn my head. Not even if he offers me free samples of the Victoria sponge he’s just made.”

“You’re getting cake samples from this man?” said Remus. “We’ve been here one day -- not even -- and already the townsfolk are plying you with sweet treats.”

“I’m very pliable,” said Sirius, smiling at Remus in the way that had made him fall so hard in the first place. 

“I don’t think that means what you think it means, but I’ll allow it,” said Remus. 

Sirius snickered, and then something caught his eye and he was pointing in another direction. “Look over there. There’s the bookshop, I told you there was a bookshop.”

The cottage had come from Remus’ dreams, but the bookshop that Sirius had pointed out seemed to have come from the depths of Remus’ soul. It was simply called “The Bookshop” -- no muss, no fuss. A small sign hanging in the window announced a sale on Scottish poetry and books that featured marine animals. Through the window, Remus could see tidy shelves and teetering stacks, seemingly added as the shop acquired more and more stock. The doorway had been painted red to match the lettering of the shop’s name. Remus was almost afraid to approach it, lest it dissolve into mist like a mirage.

“Nevermind me and the man from the shop,” said Sirius. “You’re clearly going to have an affair with that bookshop.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” said Remus, forcing himself to look away from the shop. 

“Go on,” said Sirius, with a knowing smile. “Go and see if they have any open positions. I’ll be in the market looking for more free samples.”

By some miracle, The Bookshop was looking for a new sales assistant. Their most recent one -- a young woman named Beth -- had gotten married and moved to Edinburgh just a month earlier.

“You’re not about to get married and move to Edinburgh, are ye?” asked the owner, an older woman who peered at Remus above half-moon spectacles that reminded him strongly of Dumbledore. 

“It’s not in my plan, no,” said Remus, chuckling. “At least not the move to Edinburgh.”

When Remus met Sirius outside the market a little while later, he had a new job and Sirius had a Victoria sponge. 

“It’s celebratory,” he said. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I’m not going to sleep with the man from the market. Not for cake, anyway. If there’s cheese involved, that’s another story…”

“Lovely town,” said Remus, as they began walking back to the cottage. “Such a shame that it’s going to tear us apart with these temptations.”

“Quite,” said Sirius. “Shall we go home, make passionate love to each other, and declare our undying love? Just to be safe?”

Remus took Sirius’ hand in his own and smiled. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “I like the way you think. Let’s start now, eh? I love you.”

“And I love you,” said Sirius, kissing him on the cheek. 


End file.
